


Just a Job like Any Other

by hunenka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:47:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunenka/pseuds/hunenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Pre-series</i>. To take down a supernatural creature, Dean has to make a personal sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Job like Any Other

“I wouldn’t ask this of you if there was another way,” John says, unable to meet his son’s eyes, so he stares at the page in the bestiary instead, at the depiction of the monster that started this whole mess, at the words under the picture: _Qarinah, a monster related to the succubae and incubi of the Western mythology, probably originating from the Middle East._

“It’s okay, Dad,” Dean sounds calm and composed, his voice steady and impersonal like always when he accepts orders from his father. “You don’t fit the profile, I do. This bitch likes her victims young and innocent.” He laughs, easy and unworried, and John looks up to see Dean wink at him. “Well, she’s in for a big surprise.”

“That she is.” Despite himself, John feels himself smiling at his son’s eagerness. Maybe this won’t be such a bad idea after all.

*

Dean takes a sip of his beer, shifting a little on his barstool as he overlooks the barroom which is getting fuller and fuller as people stream in, because it’s Friday and that means work is over and it’s time to have some fun. There’s smoke and alcohol in the air and the music’s loud but the voices of the people laughing, chatting and flirting are even louder.

Dean knows Dad is sitting in the corner, observing everything from the distance just in case something goes wrong, but he doesn’t risk looking in his direction. Instead, he glances at his watch, just barely suppressing an annoyed groan when he sees he’s only been her for twenty minutes. It feels like hours already, but he knows that’s just nerves.

Still, he wants this to be over with already.

The door to the bar opens and a woman walks in, and Dean immediately knows it’s her, even before he sees the tattoos behind her ears that all Qarinahs have, according to the lore. She practically radiates sex-appeal, making every head in the room turn in her direction, both men and women following her with suddenly dazed eyes.

The woman – not a woman, a Qarinah, he reminds himself – crosses the room and the crowd parts, like making way for a queen. She orders a drink and looks around, choosing her prey for tonight.

Dean forces himself to relax, telling himself this is just like picking up a date. And he’s good at that. So he lets his legs fall open, raises his beer bottle to his lips and takes a long drink, leaning backwards to show off his body, hidden only by a thin t-shirt and jeans that are a bit too tight, making him feel exposed and vulnerable. Also, it’s weird, doing this when he knows Dad is watching, but it’s a job that has to be done and that’s all Dean allows himself to think about.

And it looks like his strategy’s working, because the Qarinah is standing at his side, letting her eyes wander all over his body, a hungry smile on her lips. “How about you go with me?” She asks, her voice surprisingly deep and very seductive, and if Dean hadn’t drunk that disgusting concoction earlier, he’d surely be under her spell right now. But as it is, all he has to do is pretend.

He quickly slides off the barstool and stares at her like she’s the hottest chick he’s ever seen. Which, by the way, she’s not. But she’s close, and he doesn’t have to fake his appreciation as he looks her over. “Sure.”

She grabs him by his arm, her fingers digging into his bicep, and leads him outside. “I’m Tina,” she introduces herself as they walk down the dimly lit street.

“Dean.” He doesn’t see any point in lying about his name. Before the night is over, she’ll be dead. “You from around here?” 

“No,” is all she says. She’s obviously counting on her supernatural charm too much, not bothering with small talk or furtive glances or any of the usual stuff. She just walks, and he follows.

Then they’re stopping in front of a small house. Tina – it’s easier to think of her as a woman than as a monster, considering what they’re about to do – is fishing for keys in her purse. Finally she finds them and unlocks the door, turns the light on and motions for Dean to step inside. When she shuts the door behind him, it has this sound of finality to it that he doesn’t like at all.

“Come on, Dean,” her fingers bunch up in the front of his shirt and she’s leading him up the stairs. “Honey, look what I found,” she calls out, and Dean almost stumbles when he realizes what this means – they’re not alone in the house. But it doesn’t matter, so it’s two of those bitches instead of just one, no big deal. No need to change the plan.

Then she’s opening another door and pushing him inside, and there’s a huge bed in the middle of the room and there’s a huge naked guy lying on top of it, studying Dean with the same hungry expression Tina had when she first laid her eyes on him.

“He’s pretty,” the man drawls and sits up, muscles rippling under his skin. “You have excellent taste, darling.”

“Of course I do. I always pick the pretty ones,” Tina answers proudly and Dean wants to shout “I’m right here, you morons,” but he doesn’t, because he’s supposed to be under a spell, meek and obedient like a puppy. Like a toy.

“Why don’t you take off your clothes, Dean,” she says, already tugging up the hem of his shirt, and he raises his hands and lets her pull it over his head before he bends to unlace his boots. He feels their eyes on him and he can’t slow his breathing, can’t stop his fingers from shaking, can’t get himself under control, because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

“He’s nervous. That’s sweet,” the man laughs and Dean wants to rip the guy’s throat out with his bare hands, but he can’t break cover yet, he has to wait because those fucking Qarinahs are only vulnerable after they orgasm and that’s why he’s here, that’s his job, that’s what he has to do. Or more innocent people are going to die.

He hesitates before taking his briefs off, panicking when he looks up from the floor and sees the male Qarinah watching him and stroking his cock – and that thing is huge, just like the rest of the guy. He can’t do this; he’s never done it with a man, never even thought about it…

But then he hears his father’s voice in his head, reminding him of his mission to protect and save, to do his duty. This is just a job like any other.

“Yes, sir,” he almost says out loud, and taking a deep breath, he steps out of his briefs and lets Tina push him towards the bed and the man.

He can do it.

He has to.

*

John lets out a huge sigh of relief when the front door of the house finally opens and Dean steps out, alive and looking safe. It takes all of John’s discipline not to run towards his son to ask if he’s okay. Instead, he stays in his car where he was the whole night; watching, waiting, hand on his gun.

Dean starts walking towards him, and for a moment John is afraid something’s wrong with him, something’s wrong with the way he’s moving, because he’s limping. But then Dean straightens up and raises his head, squares his shoulders, and the limp is gone, replaced by his usual firm, brisk steps that carry him over to the Impala in no time.

“Any you hurt?” John asks when Dean gets into the passenger seat, because for a split second, he’d swear he saw Dean wince in pain as he sat down. 

“No, sir,” Dean answers quickly, meeting John’s eyes and withstanding John’s inquiring look without flinching. Still, John quickly looks his son over for injuries, but aside from slightly swollen lips and what appears to be a hickey on his throat, there seems to be nothing wrong. Thank God.

He turns the ignition key and starts the car. “Any complications?”

Dean shakes his head once. “No, sir.” His tone is flat; he’s still in soldier mode, reporting back to his commanding officer after finishing a mission. “It’s all done and taken care of.”

“So she’s dust,” John wants to clarify, just to make sure. “Gone.”

Dean is staring out the window as John pulls out of the street. “Yeah. Like it never even happened.”

END


End file.
